Author's Note: I promise I'll get back to writing "Nothing Lost," but I decided that in these times, a nice dose of pure fluff and smut was really what's necessary as a pick-me-up. Two-shot fluff and smut set after 2x14, "The Third Man." Enjoy!

Maybe Falling

This wasn't a date.

It was absolutely not a date, Kate told herself firmly. It was just a dinner between work colleagues who had finished up a long day and were hungry.

Never mind that she had her arm linked through his—why had she done that anyway?—and he was single and she was single—very, very single, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Lanie's inserted—and they were about to have a nice dinner together.

But it still wasn't a date. Castle was, well, Richard Castle, celebrity multimillionaire; he went on dates to places like Drago that had waiting lists for reservations a mile long for anyone who wasn't a VIP or didn't have connections.

And boy, what a waste of a connection tonight had been. Served her right for doing something she would never normally do and using her in with the city health inspector to get a reservation. She'd been goaded into it by that stupid note in the Ledger and Castle's stupid boasts about his date with the Bachelorette and Lanie's stupid teasing about the way she and Castle… worked together. It had all been very, very stupid. She didn't know why she cared. She didn't care what Castle did—or who he did—in his spare time.

She didn't. And this wasn't a date.

Richard Castle didn't go on dates to places like Remy's. For that matter, she was a little surprised that Castle had ever set foot in a place like Remy's. It was nondescript, completely casual and unpretentious, not quite as grimy as a typical cop hangout but not much above it, and—it had to be said—cheap. Sure, the food was great for the cost and the milkshakes even more so but it wasn't a place any famous multimillionaire would be caught dead in.

Maybe Castle had been slumming it?

Yes, that made more sense. She ignored the tiny voice in her mind pointing out that for all Castle's celebrity status, he appeared to have no qualms about spending most of his days in the far from glamorous precinct. That was different, anyway, research for his books. And it was temporary.

Although he had turned down what she was sure had to be the more lucrative, to say nothing of more glamorous, offer of writing about James Bond…

That had nothing to do with her.

She was overthinking things. She was just tired, she decided, and overreacting to the disappointment of the date. (She made a mental note to have a word with Lanie about any future set-ups, not that there were going to be any, because as nice as Brad had been to look at, having an actual personality would have been helpful. Kate didn't do one night stands where a personality could take a back seat to appearances.)

Speaking of dates, Castle was (still?) volubly whining about his evening, although he had moved on from the disaster of a date to shuddering histrionically over his luck on escaping a bad date only to be attacked by a giant spider.

Kate snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Castle. You weren't attacked; the spider just happened to land on you when its cage was broken."

He gave her a look of mock dismay. "Haven't I told you before not to ruin my stories with your logic? Your version is boring."

"If by boring, you mean accurate, sure," she drawled.

"I'm a writer, Beckett. Haven't you ever heard of artistic license?"

"It works better when you're telling the story to someone who wasn't an eyewitness to the actual events."

They had reached Remy's and he heaved an exaggerated sigh even as he held open the door for her with the automatic courtesy she'd come to expect from him. "Must you always spoil my fun?"

She threw him a smirk. "Yes."

His pout in response dissipated as their entrance into Remy's was greeted with smiling enthusiasm. "Ricky! And Detective Kate! I've been wondering if I'd ever see you two in here together ever since I read Heat Wave. And now here you are on a date." Susan was Kate's favorite among the waitstaff at Remy's so she tried to stop in when Susan was on shift but she'd never expected that Susan would also know Castle.

Kate turned to Castle as he looked at her. "You know Susan?" her question overlapped with his echoing "You know Susan too?"

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Kate heard Lanie commenting on how they so often seemed to be on the same wavelength but she ignored it, managing a small, awkward laugh. "It's not a date, Susan."

"We're just friends," Castle concurred. "And hungry so we thought we'd stop by and of course, how can I pass up the chance to see the best waitress in the city?"

Susan shook her head at him with a small, pleased laugh. "Behave, Ricky, none of your flattery." She turned to Kate. "It's too bad you're not on a date because Ricky here can use someone who can make him behave and you'd be good at it, Detective Kate."

Kate tossed him a smirk even as she addressed Susan. "Yes, but I've already got my hands full dealing with criminals every day."

"You know I can hear you, right?" Castle interjected with a show of offense.

"Speaking of making you behave, how is Alexis doing, Ricky? You haven't brought her by in ages."

Susan knew Alexis too? Castle was more of a regular here than she'd thought.

Castle pulled a humorously sad face. "That's because she's so busy with school and friends that it seems like even I barely see her anymore."

"She's growing up. You have to expect that, Ricky," Susan commiserated.

"She's growing up way too fast," Castle lamented.

Susan only laughed as she led them to a booth. "She'll always be your little girl. Now, get settled in and I'll be right back with water for you both."

She bustled off and Kate slid onto the seat while Castle deposited her garment bag beside him on the bench and then shrugged off his jacket, folding it on top of her dress. And Kate couldn't help but notice the way his shirt outlined his broad shoulders, the muscles of his arms and chest. (What, she had eyes, she was allowed to look.) He looked about as well-muscled as Brad had been—and unlike Brad, Castle had a personality.

An annoying personality, she mentally inserted, but the addition somehow fell flat. Because he wasn't that bad.

And his easy familiarity with Susan was a point in his favor too. There was nothing in his manner that spoke of being a rich celebrity, nothing arrogant or condescending. He was just charming and Kate found she was rather unwillingly impressed at that, that Castle would make the time and effort to charm a waitress, someone who could be of no use to Castle. She had never quite thought of charm in such a way but it occurred to her that it was a kind thing for him to do. Susan had to be nearly old enough to be Castle's mother but Castle charmed and flattered her just enough to make her laugh and blush a little and maybe for just a moment, feel young again.

She didn't really want to admit it but at times like these, it was hard not to think that after all, Castle was a nice man. Damn it.

It had been so much easier not to notice or care about his looks when he was just a jackass. She could resist a sexy jackass.

Not that she thought he was that sexy. (Liar.) She ignored the nagging voice in her head and in an attempt to distract herself, fixed him with an inquiring look. "So, how do you know Susan so well? I wouldn't have thought Remy's was your type of place."

He threw her a look of mock superiority. "I'll have you know, Detective, that any place that has burgers as good as Remy's does is my type of place." He dropped the act as he went on, more naturally, "Actually, I found Remy's by accident. One of Alexis's best friends when she was little happened to live around here so one day after I'd dropped Alexis off for a play date, I stopped in here because I was hungry and after I'd tried the burgers and the shakes, I was hooked and kept coming back."

"And you brought Alexis too."

"I've trained my daughter well so she knows how to appreciate a good burger as well as anyone."

Kate had to laugh, even as she felt a renegade spurt of warmth in her chest. "Clearly a vital skill to have." He was just so… disarming when he spoke about Alexis, the way his expression and his tone softened at the mere mention of his daughter. He was such a good dad. And he'd raised a good kid and done it alone.

Susan returned at that moment with their waters and took their orders—a Remy's special bacon cheeseburger and a chocolate shake for Castle and a regular cheeseburger and strawberry shake for Kate—even as she laughed and batted back at Castle's joking invitation to join them.

Castle was practically beaming with anticipation as Susan left to put their orders in. "Whoever suggested coming here is a genius."

Kate rolled her eyes. And there he went with the ego again. "You suggested eating because you were hungry; that's instinct, not genius. And Remy's was close, convenient."

Predictably, Castle shrugged off her tart rejoinder. "I'm just saying, coming here was one of my better ideas. Much better than going to Drago, at least."

"That much is true," she conceded. "I can't say I saw what all the hype is about."

"I know. I was curious to try it because I'd heard so much about it but I can't say I was impressed. And sadly, the company wasn't nearly interesting enough to provide a distraction from the food."

"I'm shocked," she drawled. "The bachelorette didn't meet your standards?" Who would meet his standards, she wondered—and then abruptly cut off the thought. Why did she care what Castle would be looking for in a woman? She didn't care.

"Alexis warned me that going on a date with a woman simply because she made it onto someone's arbitrary list wasn't a good idea but I didn't listen." He affected a sigh. "It's a curse, having a daughter who's almost always right."

He really needed to stop talking about his daughter. He was entirely too… likable whenever he did.

"Although," he went on conversationally, "to be fair, it wasn't the worst date I've ever been on so I guess there's that."

She latched on to the change of subject with some relief. A topic that would have nothing to do with Alexis was what she needed. And surely, hearing the cocky celebrity playboy talking about past dates would remind her why she would never want to be another notch on his bedpost.

She quirked her eyebrows at him. "Fee fi fo fum, I smell a story in that statement. What kind of dates have you been on that were worse?"

He made a face at her. "You just want to mock me and my tales of tragically bad attempts at romance, don't you?"

"You were the one who brought it up," she returned demurely.

"Fair point." He sat back. "Well, there was the girl who spent the entire date giggling. It didn't help that she had this really high-pitched giggle that started to grate on my ears after a while but really, the problem was that she giggled at every. Single. Thing I said." He shuddered. "I mean, I know I'm funny but even I don't think I'm that funny. By the time we were halfway through dinner, I was so tempted to make up some tragic, sob story about a friend getting hit by a bus or something just to see if it would make her stop giggling but I heroically resisted."

She snickered. "Oh, such a hero," she drawled. "A true martyr to the cause of common courtesy."

"Thank you for appreciating my sacrifice," he responded, neatly ignoring her sarcasm, although the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips belied the seeming gravity of his tone.

"You should tell the Mayor about it and maybe he'll give you a medal."

That made him laugh and she had to tamp down the stupid flutter in her chest at making him laugh.

"But no, I've had worse dates than even The Giggler. Like the time in high school when I went on a date with Tessa Berman. She was probably the hottest girl in my class and I was thrilled to bits when she agreed to go out with me."

"So what happened to make the date so terrible?"

"Actually, the date itself was fine. Dinner was decent and while I can't say I remember a single interesting thing she said, she looked good enough that I didn't care. It was what happened after the date that was the problem."

"What happened after the date then?"

He struck a dramatic pose like one about to narrate a story to children. Such a ham. "Ah, but first I should set the scene. It was a lovely spring night, the moon was out, the crickets were chirping providing natural orchestral background music. Tessa was wearing a nice dress and I was wearing a suit, although I admit I was not the suave, debonair figure of a man I am today."

She rolled her eyes. There he went again. "See how suave and debonair you are after I twist off your ear," she pretended to threaten, reaching across the table as if to do just that.

And realized her mistake a moment too late because he jerked back, his own hand automatically catching hers and lowering it to the table. He released her hand immediately but the damage had been done, her brain momentarily short-circuiting as she all but gaped at her hand and the way she swore she could still feel the lingering warmth from his grasp, the surge of heat that made her entire arm tingle. She could still picture the sight of his hand on hers, larger than hers, so strong and masculine it made her own hand look almost delicate and so feminine in contrast—and she couldn't help but think of other parts of their bodies that would prove how male he was and how female she was.

Oh shit.

He blinked and cleared his throat, his eyes abruptly focusing somewhere above her head or beside her ear or in fact, anywhere but at her. "So anyway, as I was saying, it was a nice night and I walked Tessa to the door of her place." He paused to take a quick gulp of water before he went on, his tone more normal now. "We stopped on the front steps to say goodnight. She turned to face me and our eyes met…"

He paused dramatically, too much the storyteller not to take advantage of the moment. And he really was good at it, his tone having drawn her back into the story, in spite of (or possibly even because of) the pull of attraction, of want, she still felt. She could picture it so easily, the teenage couple, a much younger Castle, still tall and handsome but even more boyishly adorable than he was now. (Wait, what? Since when did she think of him as being adorable?) Castle lowering his head to kiss the girl… Something that Kate refused to call jealousy shot through her, her insides seeming to turn over.

"And then, just at that moment, the door opened and her dad stood there," Castle finished. "I jumped back and that would have been bad enough but then, my heel caught awkwardly on the edge of the step so instead of just startling, I fell and landed flat on my ass, right at the feet of my date and her dad."

Kate clamped her lips together to keep a laugh from escaping.

"And to make matters worse, I was so startled at falling that I let out a yelp that hit a note I'm pretty sure my voice hadn't hit since puberty. I can't say for sure what part of me ended up more bruised but it's safe to say it took months before my poor wounded dignity recovered."

He affected seriousness, as if he really were mourning a past injury, but the laughter flirting with the corners of his lips and dancing in his eyes was too much and Kate gave in to her own laugh.

Her laugh triggered his and then they were both laughing, a laugh that cleared the air and somehow warmed her straight through.

She met his eyes, now bright and sparkling with humor, and this time, when she thought that it really was hard—impossible—not to like him, she was too relaxed and just… content—pleased with their surroundings, pleased with anticipation for the food to come, pleased with his company—to fight it.

Because really, how could she not like a man who would tell such a story, one that ended with him looking ridiculous, and then could laugh about it so freely? As much as she tried to dismiss him as only a cocky celebrity, he kept showing flashes of self-deprecating humor, proving that he could laugh at himself and didn't actually take himself all that seriously. And then there was the way he talked about Alexis, how devoted he clearly was to her, a devotion that was equally clearly returned. Kate had a high enough opinion of Alexis's good sense and cleverness to recognize that Alexis's behavior was both a credit to Castle as a father and a testimonial of his character.

More and more, she was starting to see that the jackass celebrity Castle so often acted like wasn't real at all but was, in fact, just an act.

Out of nowhere, she found herself remembering what Kyra had said: when I knew him, he was just Rick. Just Rick, the one who had fallen for someone like Kyra, who was real, not some flighty actress like Meredith or a cool professional woman who looked as if she never had so much as a hair out of place like Gina.

And even now, Richard Castle, the celebrity, wasn't the real man at all. Somewhere, behind the façade of Richard Castle, celebrity, he was still 'just Rick,' the man he was with his daughter. The man who could laugh at himself and who could make her laugh so easily.

And that man was one she could like—did like.

Oh damn.

He rearranged his features into an expression of mock affront. "Your sympathy over my suffering is overwhelming."

"Your suffering doesn't appear to have had any lasting effect on your ego."

"That's only because I've had about 20 years to recover. I still think Tessa's dad had to be a sadist to be waiting like that only to open the door right then!" he grumbled. "I mean, really, who does that?"

"Right, and what exactly were you planning to do to Alexis's poor prom date last year in that 'time-honored hazing' tradition you mentioned?"

He made a wry face at her. "I'm quite comfortable in my own inconsistency, thank you."

She waited him out, raising her brows interrogatively.

As she'd expected, he caved. "There may have been some fake blood and a severed head involved," he admitted.

She had to laugh. So typically Castle. "Poor boy. At least Alexis stopped you in time to avoid traumatizing Owen for life."

He narrowed his eyes. "Alexis has been tattle-telling, I see. Remind me to have words with her."

She laughed again. "Tattle-telling? What are you, five?" (How did he do that, make her laugh so easily? And how could she not like someone who could make her laugh?)

As if to prove her point, he stuck his tongue out at her childishly and it was, of course, at that moment that Susan returned with their milkshakes and their burgers.

Susan laughed and shook her head at him while Castle straightened up and assumed an expression of preternatural solemnity that would have done justice to a bishop.

Kate bit her lip to hide a smile. He was ridiculous but oh so disarming.

The burgers and shakes were as good as always and for a few minutes, they focused on eating at the expense of conversation, a silence interrupted only by a few idle comments on the food, in addition to the exchange of small smiles whenever their gazes met. Somewhat to her surprise, it was a comfortable, easy silence. She had to wonder when it had started to seem so… normal to be sitting across a table from him, spending time with him like this.

Well, they were friends, after all.

She glanced up at him to see him pushing a fry into his mouth and then using his tongue to swipe at a few grains of salt lingering on his lips and her breath momentarily stuttered in her lungs, her mouth going dry, heat streaking through her like lightning.

She hastily averted her eyes and took an over-large gulp of her milkshake in a mostly futile attempt to douse the desire making her entire body feel flushed. No, they really weren't just friends at all, were they?

"So Beckett, I told you a story about a bad date. Now I think it's your turn to tell me a story about a bad date you've been on." He gave her a cajoling look, all big pleading blue eyes, and then waggled his brows at her teasingly for good measure. "Fair is fair, after all."

"Okay," she agreed more easily than she meant to. (It was his eyes and maybe, possibly, the half-teasing, half-challenging smirk on his lips, that made it so hard to say no to him.) "But," she pointed a fry at him in mock warning, "if anything even close to this story ever makes it into your books—"

"They'll never find my body, I know," he finished glibly. "Understood."

She smothered another laugh—because laughing would definitely undercut the threat she'd made—and instead responded, "A bad date, huh? Well, there was the time my date got food poisoning when we went out to dinner."

She couldn't help but enjoy the way his eyes flared wide with surprise and a strange combination of sympathy and glee.

"Food poisoning? Does that mean he actually—"

"Threw up while on our date?" she finished for him. "Yup."

A laugh burst out of him before he could smother it. "Oh, that's… amazing. Well, terrible for him, but still amazing."

She had to laugh. That was one way of putting it. And told him the story which, come to think of it, rather echoed his in that it had happened when she was in high school and the dinner part of the date had, at the time, gone well enough. And yes, rather like Castle, her younger self, a sophomore in high school, had felt so thrilled that Zack Lorrimer, a junior, had asked her out and on the walk back to her parents' apartment, she had been planning how to seem grown-up and sophisticated if and when he tried to kiss her. (She left that detail out of her story to Castle.)

But of course, the hoped-for kiss never happened because instead, when they were about a block away from her parents' place, Zack had abruptly stopped on the sidewalk and thrown up right there. "I'll do him the justice of pointing out that he turned aside so none of it landed on me or my shoes or anything, just on the sidewalk."

Castle choked on another laugh. "That's lucky, for him and for you."

She grinned. "Yes, but then, he didn't have any tissues or anything on him so I had to give him a couple tissues out of my purse to help him clean up and I'm pretty sure he didn't appreciate that."

"No, he wouldn't," Castle agreed, trying to appear appropriately sympathetic, but his eyes danced. "Embarrassing himself like that is one thing but then having to accept help from his date too? No, that's adding insult to injury."

"Needless to say, there was no second date and after that, he pretty much avoided me like I had the plague," she finished, laughing.

"Did you tell anyone about it?"

"What do you think?" She hadn't realized at the time that it had to be food poisoning; her teenage insecurity had her half-convinced that something about her had literally made him sick.

"Fair point and you're not exactly a blabbermouth, are you."

She shot him a wry look. "Have you met me?"

He inclined his head. "Touché. And you're right, it was a dumb question. You wouldn't have told anyone because you, Detective Beckett, are a nice person."

Ridiculously, she felt a little flutter in her chest at this simple compliment. And this from a man who had called her extraordinary for all the world to see. But oddly, this one might have meant more in some ways. Maybe because he was so matter-of-fact about it, as if her niceness was a basic fact of the universe like the sun rising in the east.

In an attempt to distract herself, she hurriedly moved on to recount another story of a bad date, telling him about Brent Edwards, who had taken her to a party and then left the party with her then-friend Madison instead.

The problem was that he was too easy to talk to, she decided. Kate wasn't a talker but Castle really did make it easy to talk. Maybe it was partly the fact that he was clearly interested, not to say fascinated, in whatever she told him but it wasn't only that. He listened and he responded and he was clever and quick-witted and funny.

And she couldn't help but think that if this was a date, it might be one of the best, most enjoyable dates she'd had in a long time, possibly ever.

But of course, this wasn't a date. Was it?

~To be continued…~

A/N 2: Consider this a little gift to all of you for taking the time to read my stories. If all that's going on right now is teaching us anything, I think it's to appreciate the people in our lives and thanks to "Castle" and its fandom, you have all had an impact on my writing and on me and I appreciate it. Thank you for your support in reading not just this story but all the stories I've already written and will write in the future.